Chapter One: The Starting Point
In July 2025, I left a life in Ireland that was painted in shades of emerald rain and silver-grey mornings. I packed years of memories into a few suitcases, carrying with me the masteries I had earned abroad: a new language, a foreign career, and the quiet confidence of someone who had learned to navigate a world that wasn’t their own.
I boarded the flight back to France with a plan in my hands, even several other back-up plans, and a timeline in my head. I expected a sprint toward a new beginning. I expected the “Big City” and its possibilities to open its doors to me within weeks.
But life, as it so often does, had a different rhythm in mind.
I thought the transition would look like this:
- Month 1: Reconnect with my French roots and eat my weight in cheese and pastry.
- Month 2: Land a brilliant job in a big, bustling city.
- Month 3: Move into a chic apartment, leaving my childhood bedroom and start a vibrant new chapter
Current Reality (January 2026): I am still at Step 1 (the cheese and part part is going way too well).
The Unplanned Lesson
Seven months have passed since I touched down. Seven months of living in the house where I grew up, a place that feels both intimately familiar and strangely like a museum of a person I no longer am. I sit at the same desk where I once studied for my exams, now using it to navigate the toughness of a French job market that feels more like a labyrinth than a straight path.
There is a specific kind of luminosity to be found in this “Waiting Room.” In the beginning and for a long time, it felt like failure. I felt stagnant, as if the clock had stopped for me while the rest of the world moved forward. Sometimes, it even felt like I ended up going backward. But as the winter light filters through the window of my childhood room, I’ve started to see this time differently.
Living at home at the start of 2026 wasn’t the goal. But in the seven months since I left Ireland, I’ve realized that I’m not “failing”, I am just in ‘re-calibrating’.
I call this the Starting Zone, not because I am a beginner, but because every great story requires a moment of return before a big new ascent.
If I had found a job and a flat in two weeks, I wouldn’t have started this blog. I wouldn’t have spent this much time reconnecting with the “Lore” of my hometown. I would have just rushed into the next thing without processing the last.
This isn’t a final pause; it’s a deep breath. Behind the scenes of the silent inbox and the slow afternoons, I have been tending to an inner fire. I’ve started a private practice of discipline in a new project called Shadow & Steel (might change it later but for now, it gives me a sense of direction). It is my way of staying sharp, borrowing the poise of the dancer and the resilience of the explorer to ensure that when the door finally opens, I don’t just walk through it; I step through it with a blade that has been forged in the stillness.
“Things Did Not Go as Planned” is the title of this journal, but it is also my reality. And strangely, lately, for the first time in seven months, I am at peace with that. I even embrace that.
So, I’m still here. Still searching. Still drinking coffee in my mom’s kitchen while plotting my next move. The map is messy, and the “Independence” quest is still locked, but the adventure is happening anyway. The plan is being rewritten, and though the destination is still hidden in the mist, the footsteps feel more solid than ever.
Pull up a chair. The fire is lit, and the story is just beginning.
Quest Status: * Objective: Find a “Big City” Guild (Job Search).
- Current Location: The Starting Zone (Mom’s House).
- Mood: A bit frustrated but incredibly curious and incresingly creative